


Acrimony Moon

by Memetery



Category: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
Genre: Angst, Gen, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2020-05-16 23:06:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19327948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memetery/pseuds/Memetery
Summary: Catherine K. has been experiencing nightmares... for a real long time, too! All thanks to our favorite maniac. Thanks, Nny. (Heads up this is going to be VERY fc-centric so if you're not interested in that... yeah.)





	1. Float Up From Dream

“Wow… that movie was really something.”

 

“Wasn’t it? I find ‘The Thing’ to be really intriguing in a psychological sense- more than the makeup, even. Not to say the makeup, props and animatronics aren’t good, they’re _really_ good, but the mere idea of not knowing who to trust… even someone so close, when they could be a monster… Ooh! It’s so _chilling_! I love it! And THEN there’s the part where-“

 

“You sure talk a lot for someone so quiet…”

 

“… Sorry.”

 

The young girl gave her date a smile. “No, it’s fine.”

 

The night for these two teenagers was spent with much talking, and a bit of laughter here and there. She didn’t expect to have enjoyed herself so much, but she pitied the poor outcast of a boy, and especially so after his run-in with her fellow cheerleaders. They were dreadfully cruel to him, so she felt almost obligated to go out on a date with him. He did appear to feel something for her, and she was starting to reciprocate it. Why, maybe they’d actually work out-

 

“… Catherine?”

 

“Yes, Johnny?”

 

He seemed to shy away from her as the two sat on her bed, and Catherine watched as he fidgeted his hands in his pockets. “I… I really like you, Catherine.” He said in almost a whisper. “I really do, but… everyone I’ve ever known, gotten close to, leaves me… either intentionally, or not. I never get a chance to say goodbye.” She gave him a half-hearted smile, feeling… awkward, but a little _special_ that he was willing to come out to her so quickly like this. “You don’t have to worry about me leaving like that.” She said, leaning in to close the gap between them. Though just as they were about to press lips, Catherine felt him grab onto her wrist. “You’re right. I won’t have to worry.”

 

She let out a small, uncomfortable laugh, until she noticed his grip was quickly tightening to unbearable degrees. “Ha… um, Johnny? You’re… You’re kind of hurting me.” His hand started to tremble and sweat. She could feel her thin wrist start to bruise. He smiled at her, but it was anything but reassuring.

 

“You’re so nice, Catherine. So kind compared to your _friends_ , but I’m afraid you’re too submissive. You watched them berate and beat me, and you did nothing. You’re a cheer _leader_ , aren’t you? You should take some initiative. Doing nothing… it’s the same as being on their side, isn’t it?” Catherine blinked. “Wh… what the hell are you talking about?” At this point she was attempting to jerk her hand out of his grip. She could hear the tension in his voice, see the dark look in his deep brown eyes. She could feel it coming… something bad. Something awful. With each word he spoke, a knot in her stomach twisted as tightly as he held her hand down, locking her in for whatever strange rant he was set on saying.

 

“I’m talking about you, Catherine! What would our future hold, if you cower like a mouse to your feline friends? Would you give into peer pressure? Would you truly stay with me, or would you scurry off to gossip about me like they do?!” Anger began to spark in his voice, though his smile widened. She was starting to panic. “What are you talking about? This was just… just one date! I’m not- I don’t know about a _future_ with you!”

 

“EXACTLY! You don’t think ahead, you’re too impulsive! I’ve thought ahead!! I’ve thought about us a lot, you know? I think about you… how much I like you. It’s inspiring! I haven’t felt this good in ages!!” As he finally released his grip on her arm, sending Catherine flying to the ground from pulling so hard, he whipped out a knife with his other hand like it was nothing.

 

Tears started flowing down Catherine’s reddened cheeks, as she stuttered and stammered, backing herself as far away from him as she could. “P…please don’t…!” She whimpered, staring in horror at the blade. “I shined this up just for you, ya know? I don’t want to be alone any longer. I’m tired of it. It’s time for something new, and I want to share it with you!” He was yelling, at this point. “I really do like you! But you’re so meek, it’s almost sickening, and I… well, you may or may not know this, but I’m quite the mess. I can’t… go on like this… but I’m scared, Catherine. I’m so scared. I can’t do this alone.” There was a brief moment, a split second where Catherine almost pitied the boy again, but Johnny was quick to destroy that feeling as he continued. “So, let’s do it, okay? Let’s die **together**!!” All she could do was squeeze her eyes shut, freezing up like the submissive little _thing_ that Johnny so believed she was.

 

Catherine’s eyes shot open, to find herself lying on a roughed up couch, in an apartment. Her new apartment.

 

Seven years later.

 

She held up her arm and looked her wrist over, to find it completely clear of any bruises or scrapes. She sighed in relief, letting her hands limply rub her crusty, teary eyes. She gave herself a moment before lifting them from her face, slowly rising from her ‘resting’ position, sitting up and massaging her forehead. She had a splitting headache, one in the many of her life. As painful as it was, she barely even cared about it right now, the only thing on her mind being her stupid, godforsaken nightmare. A recurring one at that.

 

Seven years… She was twenty-four now, and she could still vividly recall each and every tonal inflection that _psychopath_ made as he held her down like a ball and chain. The horrid gleam in his eyes as he was just about to stab her who knows how many times… She was messy, though. She’d always been messy, and she never stopped being so, thankful for it all most. She would’ve been dead by now, had **Johnny** not tripped on one of her many makeup kits, which did send him flying right past her and out the second-story window.

 

She’d never heard from him again since that night… not around school, not even in town. He simply disappeared from her life from then on. Yet… he stayed with her, his memory at least, like a sliver that every time you tried to pry it out, would simply slip deeper into your skin, until all you could do was hope that it would somehow disappear inside of you.

 

Or, something like that.

 

So much for those years of therapy… They didn’t do her well so much as just took up her time, and family’s funds, until they got tired of paying for Catherine to relive that nightmare and kicked her out of the fucking house. She had a job, yes, but that wasn’t good enough to them. She needed to be a proper adult, live on her own, stuff like that. So here she was, finally moved into her sad excuse for a home: a ruddy little apartment, that came with complimentary cockroaches and mysterious stains on the floor and walls. It was all she could afford right now.

 

Catherine grabbed ahold of her head again, squeezing her temples. Ah, the migraine… She began to toss through her packed belongings to search for her meds. Upon finding them, she popped the top open and shovelled at least three into her mouth, choking immediately. Her throat was much to dry to try swallowing without a drink, so to the kitchen (the term ‘kitchen’ being used loosely) sink she went. An attempt was made to pour herself a glass of water… but the only water that came out was… _discolored_. Deciding she’d rather die via head hurties than ever drink that, she put the meds and glass down, before trudging back over to the couch and flinging herself onto it.

 

She picked up her cellphone from the end table next to her to check the time. Three AM, on the dot. Great. She slid into a lying position, and curled herself up on the couch. She had work today, despite her pleading with the NUTBUSTER’S manager for a day off to move, so she knew she had to get some kind of sleep.

 

She closed her eyes, and buried her face in the cushion that held her head up. She begged, please Mister sandman, please to any God, please to her very psyche, no more nightmares tonight…


	2. Call me obsequious

Work… it was dull, but at least Catherine got paid. It was also something to take up her time, but being as exhausted as she was, all she wanted right now was to go home and set up her bed. Maybe not even that. Just sleep on her sad excuse for a couch again. Anything would do right now, including the counter she had her elbows on. She was barely holding up her head, the only thing keeping her up right now was the sound of her co-workers talking to each other.

 

Catherine had been working at this place for at least four months, but still felt excluded from the little group her fellow employees had. She didn’t have many friends to begin with, but being left out of conversations by her own co-workers made her extra lonely...

 

It wasn’t like she was exactly a social butterfly, though. Not anymore. After that… _experience_ with her date, Catherine found it difficult to initiate conversation with others, especially men. Which really put a damper on her social life, especially with how outgoing she actually was. She had maybe a couple of friends from high school still, who didn’t cut ties with her. Which was fine, honestly, most of them were jerks anyways. However, knowing that still didn’t make losing them any easier.

 

“Hey, Cat!” Catherine jerked up at the sound of one of the ladies of the employee group calling her by that _horrid_ nickname. “It… It’s Catherine.” She corrected. “Okay, whatever. Look, can you cover my shift for today?” The woman asked. Catherine blinked a couple of times, taken aback by the sudden request from what was essentially a stranger to her still. She didn’t even remember her name. “What?” She asked back, a little dumbstruck. “Yeah… Braden and I have a date tonight, so I need you to cover my shift. Please? Pretty please? With sugar on top?”

 

The woman’s voice was sickeningly sweet, to a degree of coyness Catherine didn’t think was possible. Her shift was nearly as long as Catherine’s, going until the store closed at six! That was ridiculous! Still… she did say please. Twice. “I’ll have to think about it-“

 

“Thaaanks Cat! Knew I could count on you!!” She interrupted in such a shrill voice, and was out the door with a couple tag-alongs before Catherine could muster up the courage to say anything at all.

 

She stared blankly. On one hand, she felt almost validated by ‘stepping in’, on the other… everything else about that. She couldn’t believe that she just let that happen. It wouldn’t be the first time she let something like that slide, though…

 

Maybe she really was a doormat of a human being…

 

The shift was gruellingly long. Not so much that she had to do anything, but the lack of anything to do. There was probably two or three customers within the past few hours. NUTBUSTER wasn’t exactly useful to anyone nowadays, what with streaming from home taking over the movie industry. She was surprised that place was still standing, honestly.

 

After a hectic day of absolutely nothing, she was glad to be back in the apartment complex. Although, as she rummaged through her purse for her keys, she couldn’t help but feel… something _off_. Like eyes were upon her. She looked from side to side, and upon turning around she was unfortunately met with being right.

 

A man, just a few inches taller than Catherine, was staring straight at her. He had squinty hazel eyes, and the underside of his hair was shaved, the rest being held up in a tiny ponytail. He licked his dry, frowning lips that were surrounded by the faintest of facial hair before he spoke. “Hello. You must be Catherine K. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

She gave the man the most awkward smile that had ever crossed her face, and nodded. “Yep, that’s me… Don’t know where you found out my name, but…” She replied. “I heard I was getting a new neighbor, so I looked up your social media websites by finding your location. Wasn’t that hard. I’m Michael.” He stated, almost proudly by the sound of it. “Well, uh, Michael… it’s nice to meet you-”

 

“I like your photos. You’re very beautiful.” He said with a yellowed smile. “You should definitely cover yourself up more, though. Your bra straps are always showing. There are some creepy guys out there that’ll dig your shoulders too much, you know?” He appeared to think that was helpful in any sort of way, and nodded to himself. Catherine could feel herself start to sweat nervously as every second went by with this guy. Without diverting eye contact, just in case he tried to do… _something_ , she quickly pulled out her keys. “Thanks for the, uh, the tip. I should go into my home now, I got… stuff to do. Unpacking, you know?” She spoke quietly, though shakily. She couldn’t deny how intimidated she was right now by Michael’s mere presence. She wanted in her room. **Now**.

 

“Need any help?” He asked, and Catherine felt her stomach flip. “No! I mean… No. It’s not too much of a hassle.” She insisted. He frowned again. “Alright. Well, don’t be shy now. Feel free to come over whenever you’d like.”

 

Catherine wasn’t even subtle as she almost frantically opened, entered, and shut her door. She locked it as well, just in case, hoping Michael didn’t hear the lock’s click. She knew that was rude of her… probably, but _holy shit_ was that man **creepy**. He was like every slime-ball of a man she’d met all rolled into one, and she literally just met the guy! She could feel herself being this close to crying… but managed to shake it off, for now. 

 

She gave out a heavy sigh, and trudged over to the couch once again, slumping onto it. She really should start taking out her belongings… moving furniture, decorating the place, and whatnot, but she couldn’t push herself to do it. Not right now. The tears finally started flowing… but this, this was out of pain more than the stress of today. She could feel it, another migraine coming on. _Fuck_.


	3. A Nightmare

Night had passed, and Catherine did not get a wink of sleep. She was used to being forced to stay up thanks to her migraines, but it certainly didn’t make dealing with it any easier. She took her medicine hours ago, but the excruciating pain stayed right where it appeared through the night. She was tired, she was stressed, and she practically cussed at the birds outside as the sun rose up.

 

Her eyes were foggy from tears, and bloodshot. It felt like they were trying to bulge out of her skull. The pain pulsated in her brain, making it feel like her nerves were on the rack. This agony did not falter, much less stop, and the brightness of the sky outside was simply making things worse.

 

Catherine closed the blinds of the window above her couch, and placed her face in her hands. For the umpteenth time, she desperately tried to will the pain away, but of course that did nothing. She took a deep breath, and looked over at her cellphone anxiously. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to make it to work.

 

The call went about as badly as expected… The manager was keen on berating one of the few employees he had, for the sole sake of _being_ one of the few employees he had. Once Catherine reached the point of tears, though, he sighed deeply and told her that she could have a one day break. One day, but that was it. She took it without hesitation, thanking him profusely, and ended the call. She spent the day curled up on the couch with one of her blankets she pulled out from the luggage, face buried in the couch’s back cushion, until everything went dark for her.

 

Catherine woke up somewhere around seven PM… her migraine finally gone. Relieved, she decided to take advantage of the rest of her day off, and go out while she could. She hadn’t gone out anywhere in… ages, it felt like. Aside from going to work and buying her meds. So she quickly hopped in the shower (even if it was grungier than her…), pulled a jacket on over her fresh clothes and went out into the nightlife of autumn.

 

She was close enough to a little Japanese restaurant she enjoyed that she didn’t need to drive, so she walked, with almost a skip in her step. Catherine didn’t eat as much as she should, as she tried to get in on the latest dieting trends often… which, most likely, added to her awful headaches. Thankfully for her stomach, though, she enjoyed indulging in Asian cuisine quite a bit. She ordered the little octopus meatballs (‘takoyaki’, they were called), some sushi, a ramune soda, and sat in front of the restaurant’s front window to eat. But as she was digging into her food, her and a few of the other patrons started to take notice of a particular sound… a shrill sound.

 

Screaming. People were screaming.

 

Sound hit the windows like waves, as everyone in the restaurant began to scream themselves. Catherine might’ve joined in, had she not started choking on her food at the sight. The cashier called nine-one-one in an instant, as if she were almost used to this.

 

“Hello? H- HELLO? Police? Yes, I- I’m calling to report a murder. Murders. Yes! THEY’RE HAPPENING IN FRONT OF ME **_RIGHT NOW!!_** ”

 

Catherine managed to cough out the food stuck in her throat and scrambled to hide underneath the table, as did many others at their own booths. Many peeked up from their hiding places, including Catherine, to witness the atrocity happening before them. A scraggly-looking man was ranting and raving, almost louder than the victims’ screaming, as he tackled them down and stabbed them relentlessly, one by one.

 

Someone had to do something! People were being murdered in cold blood!! Catherine, already panicking to the point of hyperventilation, knew it wasn’t going to be her. It couldn’t be! What could she possibly do, especially in such an anxious state?! She wasn’t clever, she wasn’t strong, she’d just interrupt him for a split second and get herself killed. This person obviously did not care if he was caught or not. How unfortunate that it seemed everyone else had the same thought as her, a bad case of bystander syndrome surrounded those poor, dying people… He was destroying lives. The murderer picked them off like they were _nothing_. He really thought they’d listen to him while they were bleeding to death, too?! What a godforsaken excuse for a person!

 

It was then, at the relief of everyone in the vicinity, police sirens were finally heard. They weren’t far off, either, but it was too late. There in the streets, bodies and blood littered the pavement, and no one had done anything to truly help. Taking notice of the red and blue lights flashing in the distance, the man had put his reign of terror on pause. Catherine slinked out from under the table to get a better look at him. If she couldn’t have saved those people, the least she could do for them was try and get this _fucker_ put in prison by identifying him.

 

She took note of the definitive traits. He had a thin frame. Gangly, even. It was hard to tell, as he was only under the dim light of a lamp post, but he seemed to have brown skin… yet, a pale complexion. Hispanic, maybe? She only guessed, having a similarly dark tone, being part hispanic herself. His ‘hair’ (what was left of it, at least) was definitely… weird. It looked wiry, almost like antennas. Catherine leaned in as he turned around towards the restaurant, hoping to get a good look at his face before he fled from the scene.

 

Catherine felt her heart stop as his piercing eyes stared back at her’s. The lights above him flickered, but she’d know that face anywhere…

 

It… it was _him_. The man who haunted her nightmares. The one who ruined her entire fucking life. A shiver went down her spine, Catherine couldn’t hold herself back as everything that just happened finally sunk in. She didn’t even try to cover her mouth as she threw up everything from her stomach. Tears welled up in her fearful, widened eyes as she watched him escape once again. She held her trembling body, and fell to her knees.

 

As the police arrived at the scene, a few of the other people in the building started to take notice of Catherine as she both mentally and physically broke down. They clambered around her as she fell to the floor on her side, unable to take anymore of the situation.

 

“Miss? Miss, are you alright?”

 

“Hello?”

 

“… Miss?” 


	4. The Boogeymen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for everyone but this chapter is gonna get a little creepy, even for JTHM standards.

When Catherine came to, the majority of the people had left, leaving only the cashier to help her up from her horrified stupor. She held her head and coughed a couple of times, instinctively trying to get the taste of vomit out of her mouth. “Did… Did I faint?” She asked. The cashier woman nodded, before helping her up. “The restaurant is closed now… do you have a ride home? I can call a taxi…” She seemed to want to push Catherine out quickly, understandably so. This simple little place… was now a crime scene. _Everyone_ probably wanted to go home by now. “Yes, uh, a taxi would be good.”

 

After the cashier phoned for one, Catherine was ushered out onto the street without another word. She stared blankly at the scene before her… the police car’s lights flashing, illuminating the pools of blood that were left for evidence as the bodies were bagged and taken away. It was as if she was in a trance, in that… it just felt like another one of her nightmares. Like any moment she’d wake up, shaking and sweating all over. Get up, take some meds for her headache, and go on with her day- but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not this time.

 

This time… it was real.

_He_ was real.

 

The massacre itself did not leave much room for other cars to drive by, so the taxi took it’s time, leaving Catherine shivering and afraid on the sidewalk as she waited for it to arrive. Despite having the police around, she still didn’t feel safe… knowing it was him, _Johnny_ , of all people…

 

Even after she was driven back to her apartment complex, both her and the driver in complete silence the entire time, Catherine knew she’d never get this off of her mind. Not in a million years.

 

The therapists had all said that her situation was a one in a million, that he probably took off from her place, never to be seen again. That although he plagued her dreams like a boogeyman, she’d most likely never encounter him in real life after such a scene. It took… so long, so many years of enduring those same things said to her, over and over… she thought she was almost done, almost _healed_ … and then along comes Johnny, not only returning from the past to haunt her, but he’s a **_serial killer_** now, too! What a _fucking_ small world!!

 

She felt guilty, making this situation all about her, when several people had just been murdered… but _damn!_ ** _Damn!!_** What an awful, hopefully totally coincidental situation this was! Was it a coincidence, though? What if he came to this city, specifically to find her? What if he wanted revenge, or to finish the job, or something else equally as screwed up?! Her mind was racing with anxious thoughts, one right after the other, that upon entering the complex and instinctively striding through the halls to her apartment, she hadn’t even realized Michael was there waiting for her- until she collided with him.

 

“Woah, woah! Where’s the fire, girl?” He asked, taking a few steps back so she didn’t run him right over. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Catherine opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to form something coherent. “J… Johnny.” She managed to speak through parched lips. Michael cocked an eyebrow at her. “Johnny? Is that… your boyfriend?” It almost felt like he was more worried about her potentially dating someone, rather than Catherine herself. “N- no! God, no. He… He…” Tears started to well up in her eyes.

 

Before she knew it, she was sobbing. It finally hit her just how real this all was. “He’s back- he’s back a- and he _killed_ people!!” She covered her eyes with her hands and just let herself cry. She barely even noticed Michael slowly placing his hand around her shoulder. “Hey, no need to cry… things like this, they happen, ya know? But it sounds like it’s not safe to be on your own right now. Come on, let’s go to my place.” Though she was initially creeped out by him… he appeared to be quite kind, and she really didn’t feel like being alone. She silently agreed, and followed Michael as he escorted her back to his place.

 

He seated her on a battered old couch- almost worse than her own, but at the moment, she didn’t care. “Feel free to stay as long as you need. I’ll- I’ll get you some water, okay?” She nodded. “Thank you…” She said in a small voice, not able to bring it any louder with how badly her throat hurt from puking. Everything felt pretty bad right now, but maybe she’d be safe here… He was quick to come back, handing her a glass of water in one hand, that she hastily grabbed and drank from. He then lifted his other hand to her. “Hey, don’t drink it all yet.” He said, opening his hand to reveal two small pills.

 

Catherine stared at them for a moment, then looked up at him. “… What are those?” She asked suspiciously. “Just medicine… You know, for your headache? You get them a lot, don’t you?” Michael replied, holding them a little closer. “Oh… oddly enough, I don’t have a headache right now. Thank you, though…” She didn’t recall ever mentioning her chronic headaches to him. Right now, or even when they met, but… he did say he followed her online. Maybe she posted a status about it and forgot? “Well, okay.” He left the pills on the coffee table in front of them, and sat himself beside her.

 

The two sat there for a little while, Michael occasionally asking Catherine questions, but she didn’t have the energy to respond with much. This was, until… “So… Johnny. He’s not your boyfriend, huh? You’re still single?” She grimaced at the thought, trying to focus more on the conversation now than to dwell on flashbacks. “No. I… yeah, I’m still single.” ‘Still’ made it sound a little insulting, but he probably didn’t mean anything by it. “Are you looking?”

 

She paused. “…For what?” He let out a short chuckle. “A boyfriend! Jeez…” With that, he started to noticeably inch towards her. “… Why do you ask…?” She stared at him, getting a tad intimidated now. “Because… I… I think, I could make a good boyfriend. For you.” He stared right back at her, a smile creeping across his face. “N- no, I mean, thank you for the offer but-“ She attempted to stand up, but he grabbed her by the shirt and sat her back down. “I’m not ‘offering’. I really think we should be together, you know? The way you are… Ah, you’re not like other girls. You’re something special.” Catherine’s eyes were wide, and she was all too lucid now. “I’m sorry, but, I really don’t feel the same way! I think I’m going to leave.” She announced, trying to stand up again.

 

Michael grabbed her by the wrist, rather aggressively. “I really like you, Catherine. Don’t leave.” His eyes were practically bulging out of his skull he was staring at her so intensely. She couldn’t stop herself, and Catherine started to cry. “Please… I have… I have to get ready for work tomorrow!” Was all she could get out, before pushing Michael right off of the couch, forcing him to let go of her. She took this moment to scurry towards the door and slam it open, running back to her own apartment with no hesitation.

 

She scrambled into her room and shut the door, locking it with the deadbolt immediately. She could feel her heart inside of her throat, beating away in her eardrums. Catherine waited, expecting Michael to start banging on the door any second now, but nothing came. She couldn’t even hear him walking towards her room… at least, not over the sound of her own heavy breathing.

 

After what felt like hours, Catherine sunk to the floor, tears still streaming down her reddened cheeks. She couldn’t take this. She couldn’t take any of this. She lied down and huddled her legs against her chest, holding onto them tighter than Michael held onto her arm. Unable to sleep, unable to barely even register what went on through that entire night, she cried. She cried, alone, until the sun came up.


	5. For The Taking

I was born into this world-

made, not born…

 

I was made for the purpose of taking you.

 

Carefully crafted, and baked just right, to sing you a sweet song of life’s horrors. I’ll be conniving, I’ll be convincing, and with just a touch of magic, I’ll drag you back to hell.

 

For that is my purpose of taking you. I’ll play devil’s advocate, a false voice of reason, a splinter of bad thoughts in your brain. Until you come to me, willingly. You’ll follow me into the deepest reaches of desperation, and you’ll be mine-

 

no… you’ll belong to _it_. That’s right. That’s right… I don’t have possessions. I work underneath a higher power, I bow to it’s shadow. You’ll learn to bow to it, too. I’ll teach you. I’ll have to. For that is my purpose, my only reason for being.

 

I was made for the purpose of taking you.

 

I am… the voice in your head, _your_ _voice_ , for I do not have my own. I do not need one. I do not… Even if it were the case, that I happened to want one- a voice, I would not be powerful enough to speak. Not over it’s voice. Not over my master.

 

It’s been a long time coming… do you know how long I’ve had to wait for you? You’ve always been an open door, ever since it happened, but we had to wait until you were ripe and ready. Well… now you are. Isn’t that exciting, to have your will broken? To become one with Master? To finally _mean_ something in this awful place?!

 

… It must be.

 

I can sense him near, too, the one who gave me to you. The one who gave all of us to those who survived his wicked acts. Which is very rare, mind you. He’s overdone his taking of lives, and you’re not the only one ruined. Take comfort in that, won’t you? You’re not alone. From now on, you never will be.

 

I was made for the purpose of taking you...

 

I was made for the purpose of taking you.

 

I was made for the purpose of taking you,

and I will follow through.


End file.
